


Make Me Feel Like I Belong To You

by easilydistractedbyfanfic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cussing, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Dates, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, The 100 WTFluff Challenge, WTFluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easilydistractedbyfanfic/pseuds/easilydistractedbyfanfic
Summary: Written for The 100 WTFluff Challenge Prompt: First Date (fluff) + In Heat (badwrong) = This Story





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Thought Process: Well, I do have 2 WIPs that I desperately want to wrap up, but fandom events are fun and there's never enough Murven stories... I can probably put together something relatively short so I can participate!
> 
> This Story: You poor naive fic writer
> 
> Story title blatantly borrowed from lyrics by Mazzy Star. If you don't know the Among My Swan album, what are you waiting for?!?

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/170152452@N02/48666764466/in/dateposted-public/);

_ It was a cold night for a first date, _ Raven thought, as she pulled her car into an empty space close to the elevator in the underground parking garage. The restaurant was on the fifty-second floor, an older one in the heart of New York City. She appreciated the classic choice, rather than something trendy, and decided to count it as a point in favor of the man she’d be meeting. 

Harper was the one who had suggested she register with the expensive matchmaking service, after a few failed dates following a disastrous fling. Raven had been reluctant initially, but then she’d found out that certain agencies would do an automatic background check on all their clients, and that had sold her. Tonight was the first time she was actually meeting someone she’d been set up with, and though they’d talked on the phone to arrange when and where to meet, she wasn’t sure what else to expect. The agency had sent a brief email with John Murphy’s age, a short summary about his interests and a small photo, and Raven had found him appealing enough on paper. His picture resembled one that could be used on a corporate ID card, serious and unsmiling, and she would have preferred something more casual to get a sense of who he was - a picture like the one she’d used, because she thought it showed her personality. She liked his voice over the phone though, the way he said her name when he spoke, but nothing counted more than her in-person experience. A relationship couldn’t work without chemistry, and while a first date might be too soon to tell exactly how the chemistry might grow between two people, there was no denying that she would find out rather quickly if there wasn’t any at all. 

She adjusts her long gray dress coat as she pushes the car door closed behind her, eyes scanning for anyone who could be a threat. There’s a security guard who greets her as she nears the elevator, pushing the button when he sees her approaching. That’s something she’s still not used to in places like this, the way they anticipate needs in such a deferential way. Not for the first time, she promises herself she’ll never become blind to it as she voices her thanks. 

The elevator opens on floor fifty-two to a finely appointed round entryway, and a young woman beams at Raven as soon as she enters. 

“Good evening. May I take your coat?”

“Yes, thank you.” Raven tugs her gloves off, stuffing them into the coat pockets. Harper would cringe at the way she’s treating the soft leather material, but some habits die hard. The woman gives Raven a small token with a number on it, and Raven slips it into her purse. 

“Do you have a reservation tonight?”

“I’m here to meet someone. John Murphy. I believe he’ll be at the bar.”

“Oh yes, you must be Ms. Reyes. Please, follow me.” 

The woman strides purposefully into the restaurant beyond, and another photogenic young hostess seamlessly takes her place at the counter, ready to smile at the next people who spill out from the elevator doors. 

The restaurant is busy, typical for a Friday evening, and the clink of glassware and dishes along with boisterous chatter is loud but bearable. Raven keeps her head facing straight, but her eyes dart along the high-backed chairs of the bar, wanting to check out her date before he sees her. So many people put on a mask or have a motive when they meet someone new, and she much prefers observing when they don’t know someone is watching. She spots him towards the end of the bar, his back to her, but the hair cut and color seem to fit the photo. He’s wearing a fitted blue suit, edging towards navy, and it makes her curious about his tie and shirt, wondering if he’s the type to choose something playful or stick with the more traditional. He’s talking to an older, white-haired man on his left, a barstool open on his right. It’s a quick impression, but he looks unpretentious, and as she moves closer, his eyes meet hers in the mirrored reflection behind the bar. 

“Mr. Murphy,” the hostess gestures to Raven, “your guest has arrived. Shall I show you to your table or would you like to stay here at the bar a little longer?”

He gets to his feet when they stop, smoothly sliding from the seat to stand as he keeps his gaze on hers. John is taller than she is, but doesn’t tower over her; another positive mark as far as she’s concerned. 

“What would you like, Raven?”

In person he’s better looking than his businesslike matchmaking photo suggested, with appealing blue eyes and a mouth that looks like it knows how to laugh. Based on the tangerine-colored tie with navy dots along with the tailored white shirt, she’d be willing to bet he has a good sense of humor. 

“I had a meeting run unexpectedly long today and my lunch was cut short. Would you mind if we sat and ordered?” She’s starving actually, and is desperate to get her hands on the bread basket. 

“Not at all.” John turns to the bar and picks up his glass, Scotch she’d guess, and grips the man’s shoulder at the barstool beside him in an affectionate way. “Until next time, Walter.”

The man nods at Raven, his eyes twinkling as he raises his own glass to her, and she smiles in return as the hostess starts to lead them away. The restaurant is large, with lots of people moving about, and Raven is conscious of John walking behind her. They’re led to one of the curved booths that line one whole side of the place, set just back from the windows on a long wall to take in the view. It’s quite private, impressive too, with the backs of the plush seats raised up high along three sides, and it’s quieter than the main seating area. Raven slides in first, scooting towards the middle on the cushioned bench in order to look out over the lights of the city spread before them, and John follows, close but at a respectable distance. 

Raven asks for water and a glass of Malbec to warm her up, and John seconds the water request before the young woman hurries off, leaving them alone for the first time. 

“I’ve never been here before. It’s lovely, especially the view.”

“My dad used to come here a lot. Sometimes he’d bring me along.”

“Did you grow up in the city then?”

The conversation is typical of a first date, lots of questions and backstory, but she’s not bored even though she senses John is not overly revealing with his past, and admittedly she's much the same. He’s an only child, and he spent some time in New York City but was born in a small town in Connecticut. They have time to peruse the menu, and she tells him a little about her single mother and how she’d grown up in a poor neighborhood, but they’re interrupted when the pretty server returns with their drinks. She tells them about the specials, taking their dinner orders before leaving the bread basket that Raven was hoping for. It’s closest to John, and it would be rude to reach over him, so when Raven decides enough time has passed to not make her look like a ravenous savage, she politely asks him to pass it. 

When he does, their fingers brush as she takes it from his grasp. Raven’s never been naive enough to believe in something so preposterous as love at first sight, but she’d be lying if she said the touch didn’t feel like some sort of shock to her system. Yanking her tingling hand away and into her lap, her stunned gaze flicks up to John’s and he seems just as confused as she is as the basket slips from his fingers onto the table with a clatter. He reaches out to settle it, and the moment hangs between them, awkward and peculiar. 

She looks down at her fingertips, almost expecting some kind of physical damage, but there’s nothing obvious except the increased thudding of her heart beneath her breast. Taking a deep breath, she gives her head a quick shake. There’s probably a logical explanation, and when she realizes it, she feels foolish thinking it ever could have been anything else. 

“That was weird. I bet we just built up static electricity from the carpets in here.”

An enigmatic grin crosses his face at her attempted explanation, and she can feel a slight blush tinting her cheeks so she takes a sip of her wine to collect herself, the nagging thought that it _ wasn’t _ static electricity echoing in her mind.

* * *

John goes to the restaurant early, even though Raven told him during their initial phone call that she couldn’t meet until closer to seven, and that even then, she might get delayed getting out of her office. He’d been interested enough already to agree, even if it meant he’d be stuck waiting for her, and he’d found himself suggesting the one restaurant he _ never _ took a date to. He told himself it was simply convenience, that if she was going to be held up at work and he’d be forced to bide his time, might as well do it in a place he liked and where he’d be sure to have some company, but as he sat at the bar and caught up with Walter, he knew he wasn’t telling himself the whole truth. 

It’s probably been over two years that he’s been registered with the dating agency, but he’s pretty sure Raven is only date number three, or maybe number four. His schedule doesn’t allow for a lot of downtime, but lately he’s been feeling like something is missing more than he used to. Maybe it’s because he hit thirty on his last birthday, or maybe it’s because Mbege’s wife recently had a baby and the constant pokes and prods from his friend about needing to at least _ look _ had finally started to sink in. Sitting with Walter though, sipping on his smoky Scotch, he thinks it’s a good bet it’s all of it, on top of how long he’s been without his parents. Seeing how settled and happy Mbege had become since getting married had made him at least speculate that maybe it _ wouldn’t _ take as long as his father had cautioned it could. 

His father hadn’t met his mother until his late thirties. There weren’t very many Alphas left anymore, at least as far as anyone really knew, but no matter the age of the Omega, the average Alpha didn’t find their mate until past their thirty-fifth birthday. Mbege had been one of the lucky ones, to have found his mate early. No one was too sure about the reasons for the later matings, but then, it’s not like there was ever a lot of information to begin with. 

Something that John did know as fact - many Alpha’s were born into a family already led by an Alpha, so what could be shared often was. Like how his vision was better, or how he moved faster and sometimes had to purposefully slow down to not draw attention. And there was no denying his survival instincts were incredibly sharp, which was of particular benefit with his job. Even though most Alpha’s did gravitate towards law enforcement or the military in some way, as far as John was aware, he hadn’t met any other Alpha’s other than the chance meeting with John Mbege in high school, though it was true no Alpha went out of their way to publicize it. 

Only two outsiders knew what John was. His work partner, Miller, and Walter, the sprightly owner of the restaurant who was currently sitting next to him. Before John was born, his father, Alex, had started a pharmaceutical company that had made a few drug patents, resulting in a small fortune. Walter had been his dad’s best friend since childhood, and Alex had been the biggest investor when Walter first made a go of the restaurant. The business had been a huge success, in no small part due to Walter’s demands for perfection, and after Alex had suspiciously disappeared when John was eighteen, Walter had done his best to provide stability and guidance both in financial matters and life in general. 

_ And more than his fair share of ‘advice’, _John scoffs good-naturedly, as Walter makes another demand to see the picture of the woman he’d be meeting tonight. 

“Alright, you win, you nosy bastard.” 

He pulls his phone from his suit pocket and searches through his emails until he finds the one with Raven’s information. She was born the same year he was and her short bio sounded interesting enough, but it was her picture that had him replying to the agency to say that yes, he wanted her number. It sounded shallow, since she was obviously a very attractive woman, but that wasn’t what had most drawn him in. Her photo had her looking like some kind of damned Mary Poppins come to life, surrounded by children and balloons and a few other adults in some kind of outdoor celebration. She had on a summery dress, and her hair was tucked up in a complicated braid so he didn’t know how long it was, but her smile was huge, and her eyes sparkled, and it had been a long time since he’d seen anyone that joyful, let alone felt it himself. He’d looked at it a few times since he spoke with her on the phone, and bringing it up now, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until he meets her, sends an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness through him. 

Walter takes the phone and lets out a low whistle. “Oh, look at that; she’s a beauty, isn’t she? I suppose you’re dressed well enough, but you should’ve gotten your hair cut, John. A lady like this one deserves a man who makes an effort.”

“Believe it or not, I do have more pressing things on my schedule than fitting in a haircut just to impress a stranger on a first date.” 

Actually, he _ had _ meant to get a haircut, but there was a crisis on the pharmaceutical board that he’d been contacted about, and it had taken up a good chunk of his schedule while he was in town. Not that he’d tell Walter, unless he wanted another lecture about juggling two different jobs that demanded far too much of his attention. 

“Hmph, no such thing more pressing than finding yourself a mate, boy. You aren’t getting any younger, and neither am I. Wouldn’t mind seeing you settled down before I kick the bucket.”

The restaurant had always been Walter’s baby, and he’d never married or had kids of his own. John’s parents were his family, until they both were gone, and now he, Walter, Mbege and his wife - with his two little sisters in tow - had all cobbled something of a family unit together that seemed to work for them. Walter had taken the young women under his wing when they had first expressed interest in restaurant careers as young teenagers, and they were turning out to have a keen sense for the business, which was a relief since as much as John loved the place, it wasn’t his calling. 

“You’re too stubborn to die and you know it,” he remarked, shoving the phone back into his pocket. It was true, to an extent, but Walter was right about both of them aging, with Walter already in his early seventies. 

“Speaking of stubborn, I told Cassie to seat you over in the private booths, and I don’t wanna hear an argument about it. No point in being practically related to the owner if you can’t get a few perks now and then, and maybe it’ll impress your date despite the scruffy hair. I won’t put up a fuss about being introduced since this is the first time you’re meeting, but if you don’t screw it up and get another chance with this lovely girl, then I expect you to bring her around again soon, you hear?”

“I hear alright, and your faith in me is astounding,” John grumbles, taking a swig of his Scotch. He swivels on the barstool to needle Walter farther, but a prickling at his neck derails his thoughts. 

It’s not completely unusual for him to know when something’s about to happen, but his Alpha talents tend to occur more when things get dangerous rather than the arrival of someone he’s expecting. Still, he understands that’s what this is. He can’t see her yet, but his date is here somewhere. John keeps his eyes on the mirror behind the bar, using it to search with his back to part of the room. 

He barely hears Walter’s comment about the lamb and salmon being good choices tonight, because she enters his sights. Her hair is longer than he might have guessed, down and past her shoulders, and she’s wearing a dark green patterned dress, sleeves just past her elbows and a skirt that floats above her knees, with dark heels that make her legs look amazing. Quite a few heads turn as she walks by, but he can’t blame them. She’s graceful and sexy and maybe Walter was right to warn him not to screw it up. 

Figuring he’s allowed to stare since it’s the first time they’re meeting, he takes full advantage, watching her in the mirror and keeping eye contact as he gets up from his barstool. She doesn’t hesitate to look back at him, her eyes intelligent with an appraising look, suggesting she doesn’t miss much. He wonders what she does for a living, because although he thought she could have easily been some kind of magical elementary school teacher from her photo, now that he sees her in person he could just as effortlessly picture her as a formidable CEO or persuasive attorney. But then she smiles when he acquiesces to her preference to be seated for dinner, and he can’t quite think at all any longer. 

He tries, unsuccessfully, not to watch her ass as he follows behind her through the restaurant until they’re seated at one of the private booths with the incredible views that are typically reserved for the New York upper class and those who can pay through the nose for them. John’s suddenly grateful that Walter didn’t give him a choice over the arrangement when he realizes they can sit next to each other rather than across the table like some kind of corporate meeting, and it feels less adversarial this way, more like they’re already friends. His nerves lessen as the conversation starts to flow, and he’s annoyed when they’re interrupted by the server, who brings Raven her wine and takes their dinner orders. 

The bottled lightning that erupts under his skin when his fingers graze over hers is explosive and intense, and it takes them both by complete surprise. Raven snatches her fingers back from his, her lovely brown eyes wide with panic. His mind is racing, wondering if he should assign any kind of meaning to this, and then she tries to shrug it off. 

“That was weird. I bet we just built up static electricity from the carpets in here.”

It’s possible, he supposes, but he can’t help the part of him that immediately wonders if it’s something more. His dad had told him once, that when an Alpha finds their mate, it’s not always the same for each couple, but it’s so obvious there’s no interpreting it as anything else. This isn’t that, though it might be the closest he’s gotten to what he imagines it will be like. 

“You’re probably right,” he agrees, uncertain whether he’s trying to convince himself along with her, “it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

They dive back into engaging conversation more quickly than he expects, and he finds that he’s less guarded than he tends to be when meeting new people. His family history, his Alpha status, his career - he’s got plenty of reasons to keep his secrets. When Raven asks about what he does, the familiar, questioning pang of whether he should share the truth or just a part of it isn’t present at all. 

“My primary job is with the DEA, so I do a fair bit of travel and it keeps me busy.”

She covers it well, but Raven’s smile lessens fractionally when he divulges his employer. “Can I ask what made you choose a career with the DEA?”

This is a much trickier question, but there’s still no trace of the usual tension he feels when he talks about his job. “It’s a long story, but my dad started a small pharmaceutical company that made a couple of discoveries. He did a lot of research in other countries with different medicinal plants, and ultimately, it brought him to the attention of some local governments that were up to no good. When I was twelve, my parents were on a research trip and their hired car had a bomb hidden in it. My mother was killed, and my dad spent the next six years trying to figure out who was behind it. He waited until I turned eighteen, and then he took off to track down the person he felt was responsible. So I guess you could say my career was an inevitability.”

Raven’s expression softens with his explanation, and despite how at ease he is in her presence, that was a lot more than he usually reveals about himself, especially with someone he’s just met. His instincts are typically something he can count on, and maybe he can blame some of his directness on his comfort with the familiar surroundings of Walter’s restaurant, but there was no denying much of it was due to Raven specifically. Something about her makes him lower his defenses, and he’s not quite sure how he feels about it even though he doesn’t doubt he can trust her. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know time has passed but it’s never easy to lose a parent. You have my sympathies.” Her tone carries the ring of experience with it, and he somehow knows without her saying that she understands exactly what it feels like. He’s about to ask her more when their appetizer arrives, ending the intimate moment. 

After they’re settled with their plates, Raven gives him a wry grin, changing the subject. “I think I should probably tell you that I work for the UN. Maybe the dating agency should have cross-referenced our security clearances before suggesting we go on a date with each other.”

It’s not what he expected, imagining her as something of a fairytale teacher, but it fits her all the same, he decides. She certainly looks like she can give adults orders just as easily as she could tell children stories, and probably both groups would be listening with complete rapt attention. 

“Was that always what you wanted to do?”

“No,” she laughs, “not at all! Like I mentioned, I grew up in a poor neighborhood but I was really good with computers. Got lucky, got some scholarships, and ended up creating a new kind of facial recognition software that became the must-have app for law enforcement agencies around the world. I devised it to be less biased toward minorities, people of color, women - everyone who suffers from false identification. When the interest started pouring in, I realized that like anything, my software could be corrupted if it landed in the wrong hands. I don’t want it to be compromised, since the whole point to begin with was to make a positive change in the system.”

She glances up at him, eyes sparkling with humor before she continues. “So I leveraged the interest and made sure that part of my deal with selling it to the United States first would be that I got a position with the UN Security Council. That way, I can make sure my software is used properly. I also made sure that it was only licensed for a few years at a time, so I can refuse to lease it out again if a country abuses it.” Raven sits back slightly, a pleased look on her face as she recounts her background, and he can’t help but be impressed by her shrewd tactics. 

“And you’re thinking that some of my coworkers would be exactly the kind of people who would misuse that kind of software, I bet.” John catches the brief guilty expression that flits over her before she can hide it. 

“Certainly I know that not everyone you might work with is a rotten apple,” Raven relents, “but it might be true that my knowledge of the DEA doesn’t lend itself to complete confidence.”

“That’s the most polite insult I’ve ever heard. Working at the UN must suit you.” He grins to let her know he’s teasing, but just as he knows he’s meant for the undercover work he does for the DEA, it’s clear to him that she’s a good fit in her own chosen profession, and he’s impressed all the more with how she wrangled such a deal for herself in order to keep control over her creation. 

Raven smiles at his remark, taking no offense. “It does suit me, though I miss being in the computer lab. I wish there were more hours in the day, so I wouldn’t have to choose between all the international intrigue and my need to invent something new. I’ve started to use my dining table to cobble together projects that catch my interest, and now there’s just wires everywhere in my apartment.”

He’s about to tell her of his own torn loyalties, to the DEA and his position on his father’s pharmaceutical company board, when a server walking by with a small tray filled with a teapot, teacup and saucer pauses by their table, bending in slightly to speak. 

“Excuse me for interrupting, but I wanted to let you know that your entrees will be out in a few moments.” 

The young woman smiles and straightens, taking a step back to deliver the contents of her tray, and John’s intuition suddenly tells him something is about to happen as a group of tipsy customers walk behind her, laughing and talking about the plans for the rest of their evening. A particularly inebriated man jostles into one of his friends, then overcompensates into the server, knocking her tray off balance. 

John’s reflexes allow him to quickly pull Raven out of the way, yanking her onto his lap before the boiling water spills out of the teapot, splashing over the table and onto the bench where Raven was just sitting. It all happens fast, no one but him able to understand how he responded just before it got set in motion, and then the waitress is almost in tears trying to apologize, the boisterous group behind her never even noticing the chaos they left in their wake. 

Raven turns her head to look at him curiously, her gaze puzzled as her hand lifts to his shoulder for balance. For a moment he feels like they’re the only two people in the room, their surroundings suddenly silent except for the sound of his own heavy breathing. His palm is precariously close to the tie at the side of her dress that seems like it holds the whole thing together, and all he can think about is that he wants to unwrap her like a present, his fingers twitching over the soft curve of her hip. 

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright? I can clean this up right away!” The frantic voice of the server intrudes again as she hurriedly picks up plates and silverware, mopping up the water on the shining surface of the elegant table. 

“It wasn’t your fault and look, I didn’t get any of it on me,” Raven tries to reassure her, lifting her own napkin to wipe away more of the spill. Her weight shifts in his lap as she leans forward, his grip automatically tightening as the scent of her perfume wafts towards him. It’s spicy, full of complicated notes he can’t quite name, and the urge to press his nose against the side of her neck to inhale it more deeply hits him hard. 

Distracted, he only faintly hears Raven tell the waitress that there’s no need for them to move to another seat, then there’s the clatter of a few more dishes before the table is clear and dry and they’re alone again. Everything feels fuzzy, his head unable to focus except on the woman he’s holding and the way her scent is affecting him. His shoulder tingles from the way her fingernails idly trace tiny swirls over the fabric of his suit jacket, making him vaguely wonder why such an innocent caress should leave him feeling so stimulated.

She licks her bottom lip, twisting her hips over his thigh to face him, voice soft as her eyes flick up to meet his. “How did you pull me out of the way so fast, John? It doesn’t make any sense. That water should have burned me.”

“Quick reflexes and some luck, I guess.” 

Not exactly a lie, but the truth is so much more complicated. And anyway, it’s difficult to concentrate on explanations with her this close, the weight of her in his lap too good, his attraction to her putting all kinds of risque thoughts into his head that aren’t even remotely appropriate for a first date. 

Raven squirms slightly, her ass wiggling over his thigh, and he suppresses the groan that wants to escape his throat in response. He brings his other hand up to her waist, letting his fingers drift up her hip before he squeezes gently, steadying her as he slides them both over on the bench, farther away from the wet spot near the center of the curved booth. Reluctantly, he lifts her off his lap into the empty space he just vacated. They’re sitting closer than before now, thighs pressed together and elbows bumping slightly, but Raven doesn’t scoot away, only reaches over to take a long swallow from her wine glass. 

Stealthily watching from the corner of his eye, John finds himself wishing he had asked his father a few follow-up questions to the whole “it’ll be obvious” scenario of finding a mate. He likes this woman, feels at ease with her in a way that he hasn’t found before, and he _ wants _ Raven, that part is more than obvious to him. Maybe he should have known based on how he couldn’t stop thinking about her smile after he’d first seen her picture, but either way, it’s impossible to ignore his desire for her now that they’ve met. But wanting her, even if it was a stronger reaction than he’d ever had before, surely wasn’t enough of a sign on its own, was it? He’s caught up in the complicated thoughts, uncertain what he wants the truth to be, and then Raven’s hot little hand skims over his knee, taking all his attention. 

* * *

_ My god, it’s like a damn furnace in here_, Raven thinks despairingly, shocked that she hasn’t already sweated through her dress. She stretches her arm over the table, grasping her wine glass for a long sip in the hopes it’ll settle her nerves. 

One moment, she was telling John about her job, and okay, she _ was _ bragging a bit, but she was proud of her accomplishments and maybe she was hoping to impress him a little, too. And then the next moment, John had pulled her onto his lap, saving her from what would have been a painful scalding from the hot water that had spilled all over their table. It had startled her at first, it all happened so quickly, and she’d felt awful that the waitress had been so upset, wanting to convince her it was alright and that Raven wasn’t hurt. 

But when the server left, leaving Raven and John alone at the table, she’d spun in his lap to look at him, asking how he’d acted so fast to protect her, and it had knocked into her like a wave at the beach, sudden and strong - she’d become incredibly aware of his palm resting over her hip and stomach, the feel of his hard thigh under her ass through the thin silk of her dress, the heat of his body radiating off him and somehow warming her from the inside out. It was arousal like she’d never felt before, intense and sharp and almost robbing her of breath, and even the prickle of embarrassment she’d felt hadn’t been enough to stop her from fidgeting in his lap, needing the friction between her legs. 

His hands had gripped her hips then, and it had felt so _ good_, but he’d only lifted her away from him, though thankfully not far. The warmth of his body is still within reach, and oh he smells beyond delicious, but she’s just getting unbearably _ hot. _ The urge to touch him is irresistible, so she puts her wine down, lightly trailing her fingers over his knee, curious if he feels the same tingle beneath his skin as she does with the gesture. John’s leg stiffens, his body completely motionless as her hand creeps higher along his thigh, but then his palm snaps out to cover hers, just before she can achieve her goal, trapping her hand tightly against him. 

She looks up at him, confused, and then her gaze travels back down to his lap where her hand rests so inappropriately close to his genitals, her mind immediately clear. Cringing, she jerks her arm away, bewildered with her behavior. 

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I did that,” Raven blurts, mortified. “I’m not feeling like myself. I should go.”

“No!” John objects, his voice low and urgent. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Raven forces herself to look him in the eye, knowing there’s no explanation she can offer for why she practically fondled him without his permission. She doesn’t understand why she did it either, other than an awareness that she’s almost painfully turned on, and even so, that certainly doesn’t mean she gets to run her hands all over him even if she does happen to be craving that exact thing. She clenches her fingers into fists, digging her nails into her palms to control the mental images immediately flashing through her mind with the thought, shaking her head as she prepares to stand and tell him she _ has _ to leave. 

Fate seems to take away her choice though, with the arrival of their server delivering their dinner, and as the young woman places their dishes onto the table, apologizing again for the spill, John takes advantage of Raven’s distraction and gently curls his fingers around her wrist, his gaze meeting hers. 

“Please. Stay.”

He says it so sincerely that she can’t help being swayed, strangely wanting to comply with his request. She finds herself nodding, relaxing her fists and sinking back into the cushions of the booth instead of making her escape like she knows she _ should_. His hand lingers on her wrist for a moment, her pulse thudding under his touch as she once again considers what could be happening to her. 

In silent agreement, they begin to eat, and the mood between them should be awkward, but somehow it isn’t. Raven doesn’t know what to talk about next, deciding to leave it up to John to figure out as she enjoys the savory salmon, still trying to ignore the heat that’s building under her skin. She can feel his eyes on her throughout the quiet meal, and each time the weight of his stare lands on her it fuels her arousal until she’s literally trembling with feverish need. 

Raven sets her fork down beside her plate with a clatter, gritting her teeth in frustration at the uncontrollable sensations that she can’t tamp down. “Would you please excuse me?”

John immediately stands so she can exit the booth without sliding over the wet stain on her side, but she doesn’t miss the concerned look on his face as she gets to her own feet. He probably isn’t sure if she’ll return, and the thought pleases her, though it does nothing to diminish the growing dampness in her panties. 

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she informs him, relieved that her voice doesn’t stutter over the words, but she doesn’t wait for an answer before she strides hastily towards the ladies room. 

It’s blissfully empty when she enters, and she doesn’t hesitate before she runs her hands under the cold water, massaging some into the back of her neck and swiping some across her forehead. Her skin doesn’t feel particularly hot, and the mirror shows that she isn’t sweating, but inside she feels like an inferno. Other than her pupils being dilated, there’s no other obvious sign of her arousal, though she imagines there could easily be a huge neon sign over her head proclaiming it for everyone to see. She still looks relatively professional and put together, though if she looks carefully, she can tell her nipples are hard under the layers of her dress and bra. Staring at her reflection, Raven takes a few deep breaths, anxious for control. She’s away from John’s scent, but somehow she swears it’s still all around her. 

“Fuck it,” she mumbles, slinking over to one of the stalls. She doesn’t need to use the restroom, but maybe there’s a way to take back that control after all. She locks the door behind her, grateful she’s in a fancy restaurant where the walls go all the way down to the floor so no one will see what she’s about to do. 

Leaning forward, Raven braces her forearm against the wall in front of her, sneaking her right hand under her dress, past the lace elastic of her thigh-high stockings and under the edge of her panties. She expects to be wet, but fuck her panties are more like _ soaked_, and the first pass of her fingers has her biting her lip to keep herself quiet. 

_This is new_, Raven thinks, not exactly a stranger to masturbation, but it’s never been like this before, with just the slightest pressure almost enough to make her come. She remembers the hard thigh muscle under her ass as she perched on John’s lap, and it barely takes a minute for an orgasm to hit, an intense one at that, and it’s a struggle to keep her balance as her knees go weak. It’s _good_, more like great, really, but it doesn’t come close to satisfying her. She does it again, frantic for relief, but after the fourth orgasm in about as many minutes as she fantasizes about the man she’s having dinner with, she knows it’s no use. It’s not enough, damn it, and she wads up tissue to irritably scrub the sticky flow from between her legs before she tugs her dress back into place. 

She opens the stall door, stalking back to the mirror angrily. Nobody will be able to tell that she just got herself off, but there’s a flush on her cheeks that wasn’t so bright before. Raven washes her hands, making up her mind that she’s going to have to end this date immediately, no matter how genuinely John asks her to stay this time. Whatever the fuck her body is up to, she doesn’t need to humiliate herself any further than she already has, and she can’t resist a petty kick to the waste bin on her way out of the restroom, upset that the most promising date she’s had in ages has been ruined. 


	2. Chapter 2

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/170152452@N02/48666764466/in/dateposted-public/);

Feeling nervous is a foreign emotion for him, and as John waits for Raven to return to their table, he’s absolutely certain he doesn’t like it one bit. She said she was coming back, and he believes her, but things _ had _ gotten strained between them. He doesn’t know how to broach the subject without potentially making her feel self-conscious, how to say he’s not at all upset over her wandering hands, and in fact is more than interested and by the way, has she ever heard of Alpha and Omega dynamics? Somehow, that approach doesn’t seem quite right, even to his unpracticed ears. 

He takes a sip of his Scotch, wishing it could give him some insight, and a few seconds later a concentrated, overwhelming aroma slams into him with the force of a Mack truck. He staggers to his feet, stunned, and the heavy scent intensifies when he looks to his right. It smells like Raven, but jacked up to the nth degree, and his dick jumps to attention as she comes into his sights. 

This, _ this _ is what his father meant when he said it would be obvious, and there was no interpreting it as anything else now. He knew, as sure as he knew anything, that her scent marked her as his mate, and as his eyes rake over her appearance, he picks up on the pink flush under the V of her neckline, the bright spots high on her cheeks, and he knows _ exactly _ why her scent is stronger now, the realization coming like a punch to the gut. _ Christ, as if he can get any harder_, he marvels. 

Her eyes narrow as she gets closer, and he wonders if she can see the satisfaction that must be written all over his face when he looks at her. That, or maybe his desire for her or the absolute possessiveness thrumming under his skin; they’ve all got to be plain to see, because he’s certainly not interested in hiding them now. Not when he knows for sure. 

“I’m sorry, I’m genuinely not feeling very well. Please don’t take it personally, but I actually do need to leave. Maybe we can try again another time.”

Raven’s nervous, he realizes, and falling back on her diplomacy skills that probably serve her well any other time, but lucky for him he’s got an ace up his sleeve for the game they’re going to be playing. 

“I’d really like it if you’d sit back down with me. I think we need to talk.”

If he wasn’t so relieved that the suggestion works, he might laugh at the disgruntled expression on her face as she slides back into the booth, visibly confused why she’s listening instead of leaving like she planned. He takes a deep breath and grabs his Scotch again as he squeezes in next to her, taking another fortifying sip. It won’t be easy to tell her the things she needs to know when all he really wants is to grab her, carry her out of the restaurant and get her alone, but he doesn’t want her going into this blind either. Maybe being blunt was the way to go after all, considering how much difficulty he was already having keeping his hands from roaming. 

“Raven, I promise this will start to make sense, but have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?” 

“Sure, like an urban myth, if that’s what you mean.” 

She’s making a valiant effort, but he can see she’s shifting her weight back and forth on the bench, restlessly rubbing her legs together, and he knows they don’t have time to draw this out, already she’s on edge and he’s not going to be that far behind. 

“They’re not stories, it’s real. It’s how I managed to keep you from getting burned - my reflexes and instincts are good at that sort of thing. It’s just that there’s not very many of us left, as far as I know, anyway. To be honest, most Alphas don’t go around outing themselves, and Omegas are even tougher to notice since most of them don’t even know that’s what they are until they come into contact with the Alpha who triggers their heat cycle.”

He lets that sink in, knowing she’s smart enough to put things together, and for a few brief moments she stills, eyes wide and alert before she glares at him dangerously. 

“Did you put something in my drink? Is that why I’m..._ turned on _ like this?”

“No, god no! You have to understand, Raven, even if you don’t believe anything else - I would _ never _ make you do something you don’t want to do.” He tries to will her to see the truth of that statement, his Alpha pride disturbed at the possibility she might think he could be capable of it. “Besides, think about it - even though it might be easy for me to get my hands on an illegal drug, I’d be damn stupid to set up a trackable date with you through an agency that has my real name and full FBI background check, right?”

“Fine,” Raven grits out, “then tell me what the hell is going on while I finish this.” She grabs her glass of red wine, still half full, and downs the remainder in an impressively few amount of swallows. 

It’s probably the best reaction he might get from her, so he hurries on. “I’m an Alpha, have known about it since puberty, and my dad was one as well, so I know more than most, maybe. By chance I know one other Alpha, which I don’t think is common. Every Alpha is supposed to have an Omega mate, but we tend to meet them late. We know that most Omegas don’t know that’s what they are until they’re around the hormones of their Alpha, which sends them into heat. That’s an indication of a mated pair, when the hormones affect each other.”

Her stony expression doesn’t change, but his ears pick up on a slight hitch in her breathing, and then she reaches over and picks up what’s left of his Scotch, her gaze daring him to intervene. She drinks that too, much too fast for how expensive it is, not that he intends to tell her, and anyway, she makes it look so hot he’ll let her drink it however she wants. 

“How come I keep having this urge to _ listen _ to you even if I want to do something else?”

He should have known she was aware of it. “You’re only going to want to listen if you think I’m being reasonable - at least, that’s how I think it works. I don’t know exactly, but I definitely don’t want to tell you to do anything that would hurt you or make you resent me, and I can’t _ make _ you listen unless there’s danger, and then Alphas are supposed to be able to give commands that can’t be disobeyed or something.” He shrugs, frustrated. “I’m sorry I don’t know more about it.”

Raven squirms again, bumping against his leg, and the need to touch her is becoming harder to ignore, and not just for himself since he knows it’ll help her, even if it won’t bring the complete release she’s seeking. She may not be aware of it yet, but he’s not the only one to hold power in this dynamic that’s already forming between them. He needs to get her somewhere private. 

“For now, let’s just say you’re going to buy all this, and you can ask questions at any time and I swear I’ll do my best to answer them.” John lowers his voice to ensure only she’ll hear him. “The thing is, being near me knocked you into your first heat cycle, and there’s only one way to make you feel better, and that’s by having sex with your Alpha mate. You don’t have to believe that’s me if you don’t want to, but I _ know _ it’s true. I thought maybe there might be something to it when our hands touched and we both felt that shock, but when you came back from the bathroom, there was no doubt in my mind. You smell _ exactly _ right, and no matter how many times you make yourself come, it won’t be what you need and you already know it.”

He watches as she shivers at his words, and he knows he’s got her when her eyes flutter shut. It feels like the biggest victory he’s ever had when her gaze meets his and she stares at him solemnly, her voice steady when she speaks. 

“Let’s go then.”

* * *

As soon as she agrees to leave with John, it feels like things move quickly. He gets the attention of their server, giving her a few quick instructions, and Raven hears something about settling with Walter later and calling a driver, but she’s too shaken up over the things John told her to fully concentrate. It’s ridiculous, what he said, but she doesn’t have any other explanation for how her body is acting, and he was absolutely right that making herself come wasn’t enough. Maybe she should be bothered that he knew what she’d done while she was alone in the bathroom, and maybe she would be when she could think straight again, but for now, Raven didn’t care - it only turned her on _ more _that he knew. 

Just like it was turning her on that his hand is at her lower back as they leave the restaurant, steering her away from all the other people surrounding them and sending little jolts of pleasure through her each time his fingers move. He takes her purse from her when they get to the reservations stand in the round lobby, retrieving her coat token and handing it to the polite attendant. Raven works in an environment where manners count for a lot, and she’s had plenty of gentlemen hold her coat open for her before, but when John does it, it feels different - familiar and intimate while he wraps it around her, and the throbbing between her legs gets stronger. 

“I told you I travel a lot,” John tells her as they enter the empty elevator, “but I keep an apartment here in the city, and it’s not far. I had some unexpected work tonight, so I was using a car service earlier. Do you want me to tell the driver to head to my place, or would you feel more comfortable going to yours?”

Raven remembers the torn apart communication devices spread over her dining table, and the complete lack of groceries in her tiny kitchen. There’s also two unpacked suitcases from recent UN trips that are still piled in her bedroom. It’s not that she really minds John seeing that she’s not the neatest person ever, but she’s curious about his apartment, and the knowledge that it’s close by easily sways her since she feels like she’s about to combust if he doesn’t touch her soon. 

“Your place is fine.”

They’re quiet as the elevator descends, a nonverbal agreement between them to keep their distance while in public, and Raven tries to take her mind off her torturous arousal, shifting her weight from one heel to the other, just enough to keep her sane. She can’t imagine how she’s going to describe this date to Harper later, a smile tugging at her lips as she considers how she’ll explain it. If the date had gone well, she might’ve expected a goodnight kiss, soft and probably without tongue, yet here she was, not only about to go home with him to have sex, but she’d already gotten off to fantasies about him before they’d left the restaurant. She laughs a little at the sheer insanity of it. 

“Alright?”

“Just thinking this is _ not _ how I expected this evening to go.”

John moves a little closer to her, concerned. His sleeve brushes against hers, his scent stirring the air. “Nothing happens tonight unless you want it to, I promise.”

She nods, feeling strangely nervous at his serious tone, but he means it, and she knows that he won’t push her even though they’re both aware that she can’t satisfy herself. The reasons he’s already given her sound so implausible though his account was sincere, and Raven doesn’t know if she believes this Alpha and Omega rationale, but she knows without a doubt that if she goes home alone, she’ll find no relief for whatever is causing this yearning that shows no sign of stopping. 

The elevator doors slide open on a level of the parking garage that Raven doesn’t recognize, and she tightens her dress coat around her at the wind whipping around her ankles. John directs her to a nearby limousine, subtle instead of flashy, and the driver hurries around to open the rear door, holding out his arm to Raven as she nears. 

“Don’t touch her,” John snarls, before she can even reach for the assistance to enter the car, and Raven looks up at him in dismay. 

“Sorry,” he clears his throat, glancing briefly at the driver as he directs him to drive to John’s apartment, but Raven notices that John keeps himself between her and the other man until the door is firmly shut. 

Raven leans back along the rear seat, unable to get comfortable despite the plush amenities, noting with approval that the dark window between the driver and passenger section is already closed. 

“What was that about?”

“I don’t know! This is all new territory to me, too, you know.” 

A few beats of silence pass before John lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you. It was stressful walking out of the restaurant, all those people to weave through, and it put me on edge.”

“I guess we’re _ both _ going to be uncomfortable then.” 

She doesn’t really mean to sound bitchy, but the lust she feels is bordering on painful, a clawing soreness inside her, and her clothes are becoming too scratchy, making her feel weighed down as well as excessively hot. Plus it’s confusing that she both wants John to be overprotective of her _ and _ also wants to tell him off because she’s been taking care of herself for a long time and does a damn fine job of it without his help. Raven turns her head away from him, watching the bright lights pass by out the window, wishing she understood what the fuck was going on. 

He doesn’t wait long before he speaks to her again, his voice gruff with remorse, and lifts his arm. “Come here.”

There’s that nagging feeling again, the one in her gut that wants to do as he says, to defer to him and make him feel pleased with her, but she can sense a difference now, remembers he said she could ignore it if she wants to. She has no intention of ignoring it this time though, not when she aches for his touch. She slides over, cuddling close so she can press her nose against his collarbone, inhaling the fantastic smell of him as she shuts her eyes at the dizzying wave of desire that hits again. 

His free hand lifts to her head, softly stroking her hair. “You have no idea how badly I want to touch you. But once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I want you in my bed the first time we do this. I know you’re hurting though, you need to come, don’t you?”

Raven nods wildly against John’s shoulder, exhilarated at the prospect of even a short-term reprieve. 

He slips his arm down to her waist, lifting her up as he unexpectedly settles them onto the floor, stretching his legs out as he sets her down to straddle one of his thighs. Her coat and dress bunch up around her hips, the material of his pants cool against the heated skin above her stockings. 

Keeping her face tucked near his throat, Raven curls her arm around his back, gripping his suit jacket as she starts to rock her hips, and even with her panties and his pants between them, the pressure makes her gasp and tremble. She grinds down harder, whimpering softly, and a slight twist of her pelvis is all it takes to push her over the edge.

The hand in her hair skims down to her neck, holding her tightly to him as the orgasm explodes through her. “That’s right, just like that. I can feel how soaked you are through my pants, so needy. You’re doing so good; you won’t have to wait much longer.”

Maybe it’s because her body is plastered over his, or maybe it’s his scent surrounding her or the way his words are heavy with desire, but this time when she comes it’s more substantial, and she feels satisfied for a few moments as she clings to him, panting harshly against his shoulder. She can hear his strong heartbeat under her ear, making her wish there were no clothes between them so she could get closer, feel the thudding against her own chest so it can soothe this torment deep inside her. Her hips start to buck again at the thought, all traces of fulfillment gone as she chases the elusive feeling she can’t seem to reach, a frustrated groan escaping her lips. 

“Shh, it’s alright. You just need another. I’ll make it better for you soon, baby. I know what to do.” 

Raven closes her eyes and listens as John whispers promises into the dark interior of the car, riding his thigh until she can’t bear it any longer, the wet stain growing on his pantleg as she shivers against him, giving herself over to the demands of her body and the sound of his voice. 

* * *

Not touching her is going to be what kills him, he’s sure of it. The air in the limo is thick with the scent of her, tormenting him every time he breathes it in, and he’s harder than he’s ever been because of it. Well, the made-just-for-him way that she smells along with how she’s getting herself off by grinding her delightfully wet pussy all over his thigh. And also the absolutely addictive noises she makes while she’s doing it. All of it, actually. All of it combined is driving him crazy and when she comes for the third time, the feel of her juices seeping through his pants as a choked little moan sounds against his throat, he’s sure he’s not going to be able to hold out for his apartment. 

His hand is slowly creeping down from her neck to her lower back, about to give in when he feels the car glide to a stop, the driver door opening which signals their arrival. He acts quickly, lifting Raven onto the seat behind them and pushes himself up next to her before he hears a brisk knock on the window at his right. The door is opened a moment after, and he turns his body towards Raven, blocking her from sight as he pulls her long coat more snugly around her, wanting to keep her warm in the night air and conceal how rumpled her silk dress has gotten. 

“Just a few more minutes. I know you can do it.”

She looks at him, dazed with tangled hair, and the protective instincts his Alpha senses give him rise up inside him, powerful and overwhelming at the sight of his mate. Raven won’t be the only one trying to adjust to all these new feelings, though he knows right now she has the worst of it. He sucks in a deep breath, steeling himself for the tug of desire that he knows will come with skin contact, and takes Raven’s hand. 

He gets her out of the car, deliberately keeping her away from the driver even if he is aware he’s being jealous. He wasn’t kidding when he told Raven that it had been stressful leading her out of the restaurant, and the thought of anyone else touching her, even if it’s by accident and not at all flirtatious, makes him feel violent. Hopefully this will be something that simmers down as their bond grows, as he’s already mindful that Raven doesn’t seem to like this particular part of their connection. Still, when another man is waiting in the lobby for the elevator and loads on with them, he can’t help putting his arm around her waist, pulling her closer even though it makes it that much harder to control his wandering hands. She doesn’t resist, lets him maneuver her just where he wants, and he finds himself almost holding his breath as the floors slowly tick past on the screen. 

Eventually the elevator opens, and he keeps Raven tucked into his side as they walk the hallway to his apartment. He gets his key out with minimal fumbling, letting Raven in first before he shuts and locks the door. Turning back towards the entry, he sees she’s already kicked her heels off and her coat is on the floor in a careless puddle. Her hand is at the tied sash of her wrinkled green dress and before he can think, he yells at her in a gruff tone. 

“Stop!”

She freezes immediately, eyes wide as she stares at him, a hint of apprehension on her face and he realizes he’s just given her a command she can’t disobey. 

He’s instantly regretful, hurrying to apologize as he moves closer to her. “I’m sorry! I didn’t intend to say it like that, like an order.” Slowly, he brushes his fingers over her stomach, intent on calming her down. “I just saw you about to untie your dress, and I’ve been wanting to do this exact thing since I first saw you in the restaurant. Will you let me do it?”

Raven nods slightly, dropping her hand away from her waist. He stares at the looped tie for a second, figuring it out, and then a sharp pull on one end loosens the front of her dress, revealing one side of her lacy pink bra and panties and a hint of the top of her stockings. There’s another tie on the inside of her dress, at the opposite hip, and he doesn’t hesitate before undoing it and letting the dress fall completely open. Only the sleeves cover her body now, and the way he’d imagined unwrapping a present was exactly right. She’s perfect, curvy and soft and smells fucking amazing, and why his hands aren’t already all over her suddenly seems pretty stupid on his part. 

John cups her cheek, bending his head to finally kiss her, and he expects it to be good, hot even, considering she’s his mate and that’s just the way of things, but it’s not anything like any kiss he’s ever experienced. It’s intense, everything about it consuming and irresistible to the point where there’s no thinking, just reacting and trying to keep up, both of them spurring the other on. Somehow her dress gets pushed down her arms, though he couldn’t say if he did it or she did, and her bra follows soon after. Raven has him pinned up against the hallway wall, kissing him like she never intends to stop as her nails scratch through his hair, and he has enough clarity to slide his hands to her ass, picking her up so he can carry her into his bedroom before they do this on the floor by the damn front door. 

He drops her on the unmade bed, not bothering to turn on the light since he can see just as well in the dark, and shrugs out of his suit jacket as she lays back on his sheets in just her tiny panties and stockings. He’s unbuttoning the cuffs at his wrists when she gets impatient, lifting up on her knees and crawling over to yank his shirt up and out of the waistband of his pants. She works at his tie next, and he has to kiss her when she’s within reach, his hands caressing the curves of her breasts and dragging over her nipples until she’s shaking, the now familiar sound of her labored breathing letting him know she’s coming again. Even knowing it’s the hormones making her so sensitive doesn’t stop him from feeling arrogant over it, especially when she rests her forehead under his chin, her voice ragged. 

“Hurry.”

God, it’s the opposite of what he wants to do, wants to linger and taste and touch until he knows her better than he knows himself, but the limited information he has reminds him that first heats can be painful and he never wants to hurt her. He pulls the front of his shirt open, uncaring that buttons are popping off since he didn’t take the time to undo them. Raven’s already ruined his pants, and they’re both going to a worthy cause. He toes his shoes off, tangling a hand in Raven’s hair as he jerks his belt open before tilting her head up for another kiss, long and deliberate. 

“Lay down,” he mutters, breaking away to shove his pants off, and when she rests against the pillows, he sits on the edge of the bed, quickly pulling at his socks before slipping a finger under the elastic of one stocking, held high on her thigh. Her skin is so soft, and he can feel the heat flowing from her core as he carefully rolls down first one stocking and then its match. Another time he’s going to want her to keep them on, but now, this first time, he doesn’t want anything between them. 

She lifts up on her elbows when he draws the second stocking off her foot, so sexy sprawled out in his bed, both of them left only in their underwear, and as hard and aching as he is to give them both what they want, there’s still so much she doesn’t know about Alphas and Omegas. 

“Raven, you need to hear a few more things about all this-”

“No,” she interrupts, pulling him towards her, “no more talking. I’m done waiting. Just fuck me, John.”

Determined to get her way, she captures his lips with hers, slipping her tongue into his mouth to effectively shut him up. She climbs on top of him without breaking the kiss, her knees spread wide over his hips, the wet lace of her panties rubbing against his cock as it strains against the cotton of his grey trunks. 

Succumbing to her stubborn demands, he wraps his hands around each side of the delicate fabric and stretches until it snaps in his fingers, pulling the saturated remnant from between her legs and tossing it to the floor. Raven sighs into his mouth as her bare pussy brushes ever closer to the hard length of his shaft, his palms curling over her ass to pull her down tight as he bucks his hips up. 

The stimulation sets off another orgasm, just like he knew it would, and he uses it to his advantage, rolling her to her back as he hurriedly peels off his underwear. He kneels between her thighs, streaked with her slick, overcome at the sight and scent of her spread out before him. Unable to resist, he strokes his finger over her slit, sliding into her cunt with no effort. She’s hot and tight and they’re both suffering now, so he grabs her chin, forcing her to look up at him even though her eyes are glassy and unfocused. 

“You won’t feel better if we use a condom. Do you trust me?”

She nods immediately, and his chest tightens with emotion. “Birth control pills. Please, I want…”

He surges forward, sinking his dick into her in a long, slow thrust, turning whatever she was going to say into more of a wail as she stretches around him, her breathy cry only urging him on. 

“_Mine_,” he groans near her ear, her body taking him perfectly. It was already true, he knew she was his mate, but now that he’s buried inside her it feels permanent, like there can never be any taking it back for either of them, not that he’ll ever, ever want to. He won’t want anyone like he wants Raven, and as he eases himself out of her only to urgently push back in, he knows he belongs to her just as much as she belongs to him. 

“Yes, oh, more!” Raven wraps her long legs around his waist, holding him inside her, hands moving over him desperately, touching everywhere she can reach as she shivers and nips at the side of his neck. 

“You feel so good,” John murmurs, driving into her faster. “Want to feel you come.”

He bends his head, tongue circling over her nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, and then she does, sobbing his name while she flutters around his cock, surrounding him with more slick heat. 

“Fuck, Raven,” he hisses through clenched teeth as he slides deeper, her back bowing up off the bed when she writhes beneath him. 

* * *

The moment he rams his cock to the hilt inside her, Raven knows everything he told her was true. He’s her mate, and she’s his, always, and the details of how or why it happened don’t matter, not when she’s drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him above her, inside her, filling her in the exact way she needs. 

Her entire body is attuned to him, hyper-sensitized from how many times she’s already climaxed, and when his husky voice rumbles near her ear, telling her he wants her to do it again, it’s as if his permission was all she was waiting for. She comes harder than she ever has in her life, trembling uncontrollably as John lifts her hips, grinding into her again and again, and it just keeps going, stealing her breath and driving her wild. 

When she opens her eyes, her body feels wrung out, tingling from head to toe, and John’s lust-filled blue gaze sends another swirl of heat to her belly. 

“My turn,” he asserts, starting to move faster, rocking her body from the force of his thrusts. 

Raven clings to him, holding onto his arms to anchor herself so she can arch her hips, allowing him to drive deeper. She’s lost to the way he makes her body respond, the instinct to give him everything. He’s perfect inside her, making her melt around him, every stroke sending bursts of light behind her eyelids. When his fingers press between them, circling over her clit on a rough slam of his hips, she can do nothing but come, spasming over his cock as he starts to throb insistently, his breath harsh as he holds her tight.

He grunts her name just before she feels the blunt edges of his teeth bite down along her shoulder, and then she can feel the pulsing, thick heat of his semen as it spurts inside her, soothing the unbearable ache of desire she’s felt since he held her on his lap in the restaurant. She squeezes her pussy around him instinctively, greedy for every drop as he keeps coming, twitching and pumping his essence into her cunt. Raven’s consumed in the whirlwind of feeling but then there’s something new that pulls her back to awareness, a swelling at the base of John’s cock, relentlessly pressing against her entrance. 

“What’s happening,” she gasps, squirming at the odd sensation, and John’s hands quickly grip her hips, holding her down firmly. 

“Damn it, don’t move,” he growls, gritting his teeth. “Tried to tell you. Told me to shut up and fuck you.”

“Hmm...” Raven only has a vague recollection, her mind so cloudy she can barely think, but that does sound like her. 

The persistent pressure isn’t unpleasant, just different, and as she tries to listen to John and keep still, he raises her knee higher along his back, and the bulge slips fully into her pussy, stretching her to her limits. 

“Oh fuck, fuck!” 

It’s impossible, too much. Her body’s already over-stimulated, filled with his still-hard cock and copious amounts of come, and the extra girth forcing her open is more than she can bear, sending her headlong into another fierce orgasm. 

* * *

This time when she opens her eyes, it’s to find that John’s rolled them to their sides, his fingers gently loosening the knots from her hair. Her head is pillowed on his bicep and he’s still inside her, her leg slung over his waist, her chest pressed to his as a soft sheet from the bed is draped over them. 

“You passed out,” he informs her, sounding smug. 

She tilts her head up to look at him, feeling exhausted but no longer under the influence of the ravenous desire that had taken her over. Her body is sated, satisfied in a way she’s never experienced before, but her emotions aren’t so easily sorted. 

“This is...different.” Raven waves her hand faintly towards where they’re still joined, her eyes filled with questions. He feels amazing locked inside her like this, except it’s less sexual now and more a low, simmering burn. Something tells her it can ignite again in an instant, but for now it’s banked, just waiting for the right time and leaving her feeling warm and full, connected to him in a way that’s more than just physical. 

John takes his time answering, content to stare at her while he kneads his hand across her shoulders as she sighs dreamily. Signing up for that dating agency was the best decision he ever made. His Omega is so pretty, so responsive to his touch, and his scent is all over her now, like it should be. 

“It only happens between mates. I don’t know how long it’ll last since this is the first time.” He knew about the knot in theory, yeah, but the actual reality of it was like a fucking revelation. He had no clue he could come like that, over and over until he emptied himself inside her as she squeezed every bit out of him. She was made for him and so damn perfect. Already he can’t wait to make her fall apart again and he’s not even soft from the first time yet. 

“That feels nice.” 

Getting answers feels a lot less important when his fingers are massaging her back so competently, and the decision she made to go to his apartment was clearly the right one now that she’s snuggled in his cozy bed, his comforting Alpha scent everywhere around her. She could sleep for days just like this. 

“I’m going to stay here tonight,” Raven announces, and John hides his grin by kissing the side of her head, as if there was any chance he was going to let her go anywhere else. 

“That’s a good idea,” he says instead, his hand skimming down her back to pull her even closer when she yawns. She’s going to need her rest, and it’ll probably be better if she’s in a good mood when he reveals that her first heat might last a week or more. 

And then he’ll have to find a way to add that her hormones are going to set off his, and then _ he’ll _ be the insatiable one who can’t get enough. That might not be too different than how he feels already, actually, but the Alpha rut cycle was going to make him intent on getting her pregnant, and they should really talk about that beforehand, while he’s still capable of thinking somewhat clearly. 

Raven’s soft, steady breaths drift across his shoulder, and as he looks down to watch her sleep, he decides the conversations about how many babies they’re going to have and when they’ll have them, how soon she’s going to move in with him and what her ring size is can all wait until after he makes her breakfast. After all, it’s still technically their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something "short" turned into almost 20 pages, damn it! The backstory I have imagined for this story is seriously out of control, along with a crazy follow-up that sends them on an adventure to a foreign country. I don't know if I'll ever write it, but my imagination completely ran away with this one! As always, thanks for reading, and if you liked it, I sure do take kudos & comments as my primary salary! 😉


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